O'Connor sat down with Reynolds, who promptly spoke. “Hello there, stranger. You must really be a bad boy to keep you in a cell so long. You must have a lousy lawyer.”
“They are pissed off that their precious Detective Lieutenant Cronin blew up in a million pieces. They have no proof, of course, that I'm involved, but they want to punish me anyway. Which makes me confused and suspicious of why I'm allowed to speak to you.”
“No problem, man,” Reynolds shot back. “You sat down with me,” and he got up to leave.
“No, no wait,” O'Connor answered. “I guess I am getting a little paranoid. You have time?”
Reynolds was a pro. “I've got another twenty years, man. What's up?”
“Fucking Robert Simpson. Our plan was to destroy the lives of the people who got me here. Then he enters the picture and convinces us to have bounties put on their heads. We have no choice because he has the money, but he can't let go of the girl. He really lost it. He starts killing young women to get Cronin's task force involved to make it easier to eliminate them.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Reynolds asked.
“Because,” O'Connor replied, “I will bring you in on this by getting messages to certain people through your visitors. I'm no longer allowed to have visitors, so I'm cut off.”
Gary Reynolds thought of every possible scenario to avoid suspicion. Even though he had now been in prison for fourteen months and had O'Connor's confidence, he did not want to blow it now. He asked, “If the people who visited you start visiting me, wouldn't that raise a red flag to everyone? Also, how could you get word out for them to see me with you being watched so close?”
O'Connor was impressed with the young man. “I have a guard who is a friend. He will take care of it for me.”
Reynolds breathed a sigh of relief at this moment that Cronin insisted no one at the prison knew of Reynolds being undercover. He simply did not trust anyone, and he was proven right again. Now his only worry was which guard. If the wrong guard was listening in to his conversation with his visitors, his cover would be blown and his life threatened. He decided to go for it.
“I'll do it, but I need to know which guard is involved. I need to know who has my back and who I can talk to. Also, our conversations are recorded. How to plan this?”
“My friend,” O'Connor replied, “will make sure the conversation is not recorded. He will be in touch with you.”
Just as he finished speaking, correctional officer Gene Blakely yelled at Reynolds to get up and head back to the building. All of a sudden Gary Reynolds felt very alone. He was given pause to say anything to anyone, not knowing which of the guards was a partner with the sicko he had befriended. He returned to his cell with almost a feeling of desperation. He did not want to bring attention to himself, but he was upset by the news about the demise of Detective Cronin. He also did not want to speak to his contacts through the DA's office until he knew which guard was on Simpson's payroll. He wasn't in his cell for ten minutes when correctional officer Tom Jenkins came to his cell to tell him his attorney was waiting for him in the attorney-client room. The officer led the young man to the room and greeted Al Simmons for the first time in his life. Tom Jenkins stood by the door as Gary Reynolds sat across the table from the attorney.
“You can leave us,” Simmons said to the correctional officer.
“Sorry, sir,” Jenkins replied, “I can't leave you alone with him unless his hands are in cuffs to the table.” Simmons looked at Reynolds, who nodded it was OK. “Go ahead then, Officer, I need to speak to my client in private.”
Jenkins came over and cuffed Gary Reynolds and left the room while standing outside the door with a window so he could keep an eye on things. The undercover prisoner stared at the attorney, not sure of what to think or say.
Finally, Al Simmons spoke.
“Things are reaching a boiling point, or should I say a climax.”
Reynolds just sat there in silence with his hands in cuffs, waiting for Simmons to speak again. Things started to get awkward, so the attorney spoke again.
“I was sent here by Detective Cronin to work with you.”
“Why now are you in the picture?” Reynolds asked. “I've been here for fourteen months, and the only contact I have had has been with ADA Ashley and Cronin. You say Cronin sent you, yet I've been told he was blown to pieces.”
Simmons reached over the table and whispered into Reynolds ear, “He's alive. I have been sent here by ADA Ashley to let you know.”
Reynolds inhaled a long breath and exhaled as Simmons sat down in his chair to speak again.
“He is dead in our eyes to keep the bounties off of the women. Thanks to your information. This is why I'm here. You are now my client, and all information will be passed through our conversations.”
As Simmons continued to speak, Reynolds interrupted him.
“O'Connor has a guard here on his payroll. I need to be careful. The only thing in my favor is that I've been here for fourteen months living the way the rest of the prisoners have.”
Simmons was quiet as he gathered his thoughts on the new information. Reynolds continued to inform him that O'Connor would have visitors see him to communicate back to him during the brief times they were together. They spoke for another fifteen minutes before Simmons got up and knocked on the door for Officer Jenkins to unlock Reynolds and take him away. When Al Simmons got to his car he called ADA Ashley to give him the news. When they hung up the assistant district attorney ordered a background review of all the guards in O'Connor's and Reynolds's section at the prison.
While Powers was at the hospital, he sent a text to Caulfield to pick up Tangretti again. He no longer cared about her being released earlier. He wasn't finished with her.
Detective O'Malley was at the hospital within the hour and paid his respects to both Detective Baker and Officer Chapman before meeting with Powers. Gina had also sent the locations of his team to the detective. Franks was parked down the block from Deborah's house, Lynagh was at his desk looking over photographs and video, Bud was having lunch, Wyatt was down the block from the Wilkerson house, and Detective Caulfield was on his way to pick up Linda Tangretti again. Powers responded to Gina, thanking her. He sent Bud a text to meet him later at Spy Coast for dinner and drinks and turned his attention to O'Malley. He looked at the list carefully. He looked at each name and the amount of bounty assigned.
“What are you thinking,” O'Malley asked as he ate his pumpkin seeds.
“I'm thinking we better find Branca, Simpson, and his men pretty fast.”
“Where do you think he is hiding out?” O'Malley asked.
“Somewhere that is secure to him. He won't stop until he kills Bud at this point. I don't think he has it in him to kill Deborah Lance, but at this point I'm not sure.”
O'Malley nodded as he spoke again. “The FBI is pushing hard to get involved with this case since police officers were killed. We can't hold them off much longer.”
Paul looked at O'Malley, and it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.
He started writing in his notepad and O'Malley waited to ask but decided to leave it alone.
He walked away from O'Malley for some privacy and called Gina.
He told her to pick up every CD from the group Mystic Strangers and to give it to Bud to bring it to him tonight. They were going to listen to some songs tonight.
He continued, “Gina, that folder I'm working on, pull it out and listen carefully.” O'Malley could see that Paul was giving a specific set of instructions for her.
Detective Caulfield was waiting for Linda Tangretti for over an hour when she entered the apartment given to her for use by Robert Simpson. As she entered the living room he grabbed the back of her hair, asking her where the hell she had been.
“It's not easy when you are wanted by the law.”
“That'
s for sure,” Caulfield answered. “You are definitely wanted by the law.” With that they kissed as he started to unbutton her blouse while falling onto the sofa. The detective became impatient and ripped her blouse as he grabbed the button on her slacks. He kissed her neck as she moved her hand to the top button of his slacks. Linda tried to speak, but the detective moved his mouth to her lips as his hunger to have her prevented her from saying anything. He was so impatient to have her that they fell to the floor as he attempted to remove her slacks. It was the first time the two of them were intimate in over two weeks. They were careful as the setup began to draw out Priority 1 Task Force on the Music Club Murders Case, and they were careful to not let the chemistry they had for each other distract from the goal of eliminating the members for bounties set up by Simpson.
Linda Tangretti, the cousin of Patty Saunders, wanted revenge since Patty was stabbed and killed by Madison wearing the Ghost Face mask. Her body fell into the water next to Danfords's dock, and it was almost ten minutes before they got her out of the water. She laid low for six months until she hired an investigator to find Robert Simpson, who had moved to Marco Island, Florida, in hopes of accidently on purpose bumping into Deborah Lance at their vacation home. He had been threatened by Detective Cronin to involve himself in a murder investigation that he had nothing to do with by being a patsy. Then he was threatened by Bud Johnson to stay away from Deborah Lance. His life was in tatters and he felt he had nothing to lose by getting his revenge; in fact, he was determined he was going to get it. He knew Linda from his affair with Patty, and while he resisted at first in killing young women at the clubs, it was like a switch was turned on the moment he heard the music that turned him on. Linda knew of his desire for sex during music from her cousin. Deborah had confided to Patty and she too used it to her advantage in convincing Robert Simpson this was the best way for justice for Patty and the loss of Simpson's livelihood and relationship with Deborah Lance. Linda couldn't help herself, just like her cousin Patty. She had to find out what all the fuss was about between the sheets. She set him up one night with the right music and realized it was his equipment below the waist that made him a true “rock star” in the lovemaking department. When Robert Simpson decided to use the money he embezzled from William Lance during his employment years for the bounties, Linda wanted a share. Enter Detective Caulfield, who was easier than Linda thought to get on board. During two months of dating and overnight stays she slowly manipulated him to be a part of bringing down the Priority 1 Task Force. Her goal was to get justice for her cousin, but more important, to collect as much of the bounty as possible. Now that she had Caulfield where she wanted, she would dispose of him when he was no longer needed. She was disappointed that he didn't know everything that was going on, but O'Malley did keep him informed. After all, working with him for five years brought trust to their relationship. Linda was satisfied after being with Peter Caulfield for twenty-five minutes of rough intimacy. She was on her back as she turned her head to look at the detective.
She smiled as she spoke.
“What's next, sexy?”
“We lost the $200,000 for killing Cronin to Wiley; Simpson saved $75,000 by killing Dugan himself. Chapman is still in the hospital as well as Baker. We need to kill the rest if we want to be comfortable. As long as they don't find out about me and you, my job is safe.”
“That's nice,” Linda answered. “But you told me I'm implicated from Sysco, so what happens to me?”
“You will have to disappear, Linda,” he answered. “You get your cut and disappear. If things go right, I will be able to be a cop and keep the benefits.”
Linda turned over on her side to look at Peter Caulfield. “I will need a lot more than half of whatever we get from eliminating these cops to disappear. I still think we should go after the girls.”
“Listen,” Caulfield answered. “There is no money on their heads. Leave it alone. Between Lynagh, Healey, Franks, Powers, and Johnson there is over a half million to be collected. If we get Ashley and my dear boss O'Malley, it's another $150,000. Be patient.” He turned over on his side to look at Linda and asked, “Have you heard from Simpson or Wiley?”
“No,” she answered.
He fell back on his side as he spoke again. “Get word to them that we want $100,000 if I get rid of that fat fuck Sysco.”
“OK,” she answered as she started kissing his chest. They had started to caress each other again when Linda's iPhone buzzed with a text. Get over here now. “It's Branca, I've got to go. He's been a bear since he's been on the run. Sysco has been a singing bird during all this.”
“Like I said,” Caulfield answered, “$100,000 and he's gone also.”
“I will ask,” Linda replied. It took the two of them ten minutes to get their clothes on and go their separate ways.
As Detective Peter Caulfield left the apartment he called Detective O'Malley to inform him he was still checking on possible leads as to the location of Linda Tangretti and Jake Wiley.
“Wiley's dead,” O'Malley said. “He tried to take out Ashley and I guess the ADA can handle a gun. However, keep it quiet for now.”
Caulfield was silent in his shock but managed to express a sigh of relief that the ADA was OK. “Thank goodness he is OK,” he replied.
O'Malley then directed Caulfield to question Kevin Sysco and try and find out more information about where Branca, Corbin, and Talison might be. Wiley's house was now under surveillance under his alias as Jerry Wakefern, and it was apparent no one was at the club. They hung up the phone and Caulfield started dialing numbers to give the news of Jake Wiley's death.
Bud Johnson met with his attorney and the bank for his closing on the house that he would be moving into the following Saturday. He could not wait to finally be a resident of the village of Port Jefferson. He had already hired a painting service to start fixing up the outside of The Henry Hallock house as soon as he moved into the South Street community. When he left his attorney's office he called Paul to tell him the news.
“Well, partner, looks like I will be less than five minutes away from you.”
Paul laughed. “Yeah, you and the ghosts; just don't bring them to my place.”
“Come on,” Bud replied, “no ghost jokes.” Paul laughed as he pushed the end button.
To be safe Bud dialed Deborah's number and found her getting ready to visit Madison at the jail with Rachelle, then they had plans to go shopping at the Suffolk County Shopping Mall.
“OK,” he said. “Have fun, be careful.”
She laughed as she ended the call. Bud drove up to Belle Terre and to Cliff Street, where Officer Franks was at the front gate in his vehicle. “Listen,” he said, “Deborah will be leaving, but I would like you to keep an eye on things here. I will get someone else to follow the girls.”
“No problem,” Franks replied. “Just get me some relief. I'm bored as hell after hours here today.” Bud called Gina at the precinct to have Lynagh and Healey follow the girls to Riverhead and to the mall and to get another officer at the gate of the Lance mansion. Gina punched in Carol Wright's name to be that officer.
They were all impressed with the young officer the night at the club, and she was still on loan. Bud left Franks with a few trivia questions to think about and drove back to the precinct to have another talk with Kevin Sysco.
Once he had Sysco in the interview room, Detective Caulfield walked in to tell Bud that O'Malley had instructed him to question him as well.
“Go ahead,” Bud replied, as he got up to find Gina. Once he did, he asked her to verify if O'Malley instructed Caulfield to question Sysco under orders from Powers. She replied that it was and it satisfied Bud that it was Paul running the investigation and not O'Malley. He liked the older detective, but he did not like the energy coming from Peter Caulfield. He decided to go to the monitoring room and watch the questioning before going in himself. He acknowledged the tech man
as he sat down to watch and listen.
Bill Tillman turned on the video as Caulfield tapped his fingers on the table for a few seconds then began to speak. “If Branca and his men are not in the club or their homes, where would they be?”
Sysco smiled and farted. The room was stifling within seconds.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” Caulfield asked. Sysco farted again. Bud couldn't stop laughing in the monitoring room. There was something about passing gas that always made him laugh. Even the word fart would make him lose it. Though he didn't like Sysco the prisoner, watching this unfold and seeing Caulfield's expression was priceless. He was holding his stomach when Sysco farted a third time and Caulfield had to leave the room to escape the smell. He walked into the monitoring room to find Bud and Tillman laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.
“I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves,” Caulfield remarked. Bud didn't reply because he was still laughing. All Caulfield could think about at this moment was that Bud Johnson, who was worth $250,000, was three feet away from him laughing like a hyena. Caulfield pushed the intercom asking the desk to bring air freshener to the interrogation room. Within a couple minutes the room was sprayed and Caulfield started to leave the monitoring room.
Suddenly Bud stopped laughing and said,
“Your piece.”
Caulfield looked back. “Excuse me.”
“Leave your gun here. You had it in with you when talking to fart man.”
The detective pulled out his Glock and his backup piece and left it with Bud. Detective Bud Johnson watched the interview between them as he took notes before entering the room.
Lynagh and Healey were about fifty yards away when Deborah and Rachelle visited Madison at the facility. While they were in speaking with Madison, the detectives spoke to the correctional officers and even had an opportunity to speak with John Bay, who was assigned to Madison at the jail, as well as Officer Gates. They were pleased with their conversation with Bay and could tell he had a genuine affection for Madison, while not admitting it. He told them Janet Gates would be relieving him that night and spent most nights with her, which is how she noticed the nightmares.
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